The Interview of Olivia Lestrange
by Nightcat444
Summary: An interview of inmate number 147 of Azkaban. One-shot. Warnings: Gore, mention of rape, and very slight femslash. Takes place after book 7.


_**Warnings: Gore, mention of rape, and very slight femslash.**_

_**Just a one-shot that suddenly attacked my muse bunnies, I hope you like it! Oh, and make sure to vote on my new poll! What would you like to see up after HPI? Vote now!**_

_**~Nightcat444~**_

_I only own the plot, Olivia, Samantha, and the small poem._

_**The Interview of Olivia Lestrange**_

By a an old rickety boat, a reporter by the name of Samantha Gray traveled to an island known to most as Azkaban, but to the inmates, -new, current, and former- it was known simply as hell. The wind blew harshly as the small boat hit the shoreline. She shivered and pulled her jacket closer, hoping that she was just imagining the screams she now heard.

"Miss Gray, if you would follow me please?" She rose from the boat, as the man took out his wand. "Expecto patronum!" The dementors that were gathering near had fled away.

"I thought you stopped using dementors during the second reign of the Dark Lord Voldemort?" She asked, her pen at the ready.

"After Voldemort was defeated, we reinstated them, prisoners kept escaping. Regular guards weren't enough." He replied.

"Have you upped the security in any other way?"

"Yes, an animagus cannot transform once they go behind bars, wards that Hermione Granger made herself."

"Has Mrs. Granger contributed a lot to Azkaban?"

The man smiled back at her. "I thought you were here to interview an inmate, not ask about what an unspeakable has done to further the prison."

She blushed. "I'm here to get a story, any story that will make the Daily Prophet notice me."

"And you think inmate one forty seven will get you that spot?"

Her gaze went down. "She psychotic isn't she? I- I'm sure to make it if I could get an interview out of her."

He said nothing. They finally arrived at the entrance. "If you'll hand over your wand Miss Gray?"

She did so quietly. After a quick wave of his own wand, he was satisfied that she had nothing hidden and led her to sixth floor. Before going past the door, he turned. "As regulation protocol dictates, you cannot go past the bars, you cannot give the inmate anything, a guard will be present at all times. Do you understand and agree to these terms?"

She nodded. "Is she really that dangerous?"

His hand rested on the handle. "When we first brought her in, she took a man's life with nothing but her teeth. She's like a wild animal that should be put down for the public's safety."

"So you think Minister Potter should instate a death penalty for the more dangerous inmates?"

"Miss Gray, I'm a survivor, I would rather get them, before they get my family and then me. That's off the record by the way."

She scratched out the last thing she written, she looked up from her paper. "Shall we?"

He let out a sigh before finally opening the door, within the door held a single cell. Within that cell was a woman, around twenty-two years old. She cackled as she sung.

"_Dance around the bodies,_

_bodies full of poison,_

_burning, burning,_

_until you __**die**__."_

Swallowing thickly, she asked. "Are you Olivia?"

Glittering brown eyes snapped to attention. "Oh, Mr. Guard, you brought me a friend." She stepped up to the bars. "I so do promise not to kill this one." Her cackling laughter followed soon after. "How is the other guard? Saying much?" The man said nothing, though if you looked closely, you could see that the knuckles on the hand that gripped his wand had gone white. "Don't you know communication is the best way to preserve a relationship like ours?" she sighed dramatically. "Dependable men are so hard to find." Her eyes came back to the woman. "So, why did you visit little old me for? Hm?"

She took a breath. "I wanted an interview from you."

The inmate grinned. "Finally! Attention! When will this hit the papers?"

Samantha turned pink. "Oh, um, I'm not sure, I was hoping this interview would get me noticed."

Olivia gripped the bars and pressed her head against it, keeping her grin. "Starting out big then? Tell you what fairy-cakes, get me out of this cell for our interview, and I'll gossip about myself to your little white heart's content."

"Absolutely not!" The guard shouted.

She backed away. "Then no deal. You see, there isn't much to look at in here, I'm bored. I want a change of scenery, even if only for a few minutes."

Samantha turned too the guard. "Please? I need this. Can't you just stun her to move her around?"

Olivia's cackle sounded. "Stun me? Don't you think they would have done so when I bit the first guard? Stunners don't work on me."

"Please," she begged him. "I _really_ need this interview."

He looked into her pleading blue eyes and sighed. "This could get me fired."

"I promise, no one will know." She said.

"What the little princess said." Olivia agreed.

The man looked warily at her before sighing. "Alright." He went up to the bars, "stand against the wall, don't move or I'll cast an unforgivable on you."

She complied and taunted. "Why, Mr. Guard, I didn't know that you liked it like that. Kinky." He snapped on the handcuffs harder than he should have. "Really kinky." She licked her lips. "So, shall we then?"

Holding onto the handcuff chain, he led her out of her cell and though the door, with the reporter right behind him. He had taken them to his own office. The guard shoved her into the chair while flicking his wand to bound her in ropes.

Samantha sat in a chair opposite of her. "Shall we begin? What's your full name?"

Grinning she replied. "Olivia Lestrange."

She paled. "Lestrange? I didn't know they had a living heir."

Her grin turned bitter. "They didn't either."

"Who were your parents?"

"Bellatrix was my mother, my father, well…" she busted out in giggles. "My father is not of the living anymore, well my mother's dead too, but her name's still remembered."

"Your father wasn't known well in the wizarding world?"

For some reason, that question made her cackle. "No, he isn't."

"What was his name?" She asked.

"Tell ya what, sugar-drop. At the end of this interview, I'll tell you." Lestrange replied.

"Could you tell me how you came to be?" Samantha inquired.

"My mother wasn't much of a drinker, but when she did, well, the results were never pretty, or so my father told me." She said to her.

"You lived with your father?" She asked, writing down her previous response.

"Of course, do you really think my mother would want _me_? A _half-blood_?" She busted out into cackles. "As I was saying, my mother got drunk one night and apparated. Drinking and apparating aren't good combinations. She apparated to America. My father was the first to find her. He was intrigued by her, he took her to his momentary home. There, someone had recognized her. The man told him exactly who she was, how she was dangerous, all that jazz. So, he had him go buy some things. Things that would keep her there, unable to apparate. Eventually, he raped her. After nine long months, I was born. He had the man wipe out her memory and port-keyed her back to London. I was raised in the states, my father taught me everything he knew."

"What did your father do for a living?"

"Come closer and I'll tell you." Olivia said, smiling that eerie smile. Gathering what little courage she had, she came closer, ignoring the guards protest. "Closer," she said, Samantha obeyed, she was close to her face. Olivia kissed her, she stumbled back in surprise. "I just wanted to see if you tasted like sugar, gum-drop. You don't.

"But back to your earlier question" she began again "I guess you could call him a crime lord? Though he would deny it if you asked, before killing you."

"What made you come to London?" She asked, ignoring what just happened.

"After my father died, I wanted to know more about my mother's side. Turns out, I'm about twenty years too late."

She continued to write. "Why were you put in Azkaban?"

"You don't already know?" Olivia scoffed. "Some reporter you are."

Samantha glared. "I know, I just want to here your side."

She nodded. "I see. Well, I was walking in Diagon alley, making my own way when a wizard bumped into me. Not once did he break his stride to even apologize. So I found him again and slit his throat. How was I suppose to know that he was none other than Draco Malfoy? So of course, panic started to set into the mass herds. So many shoving and pushing, I started to hack and slash everywhere. They were all so… _annoying_."

She stopped writing, and looked up, her face pale. She whispered, "You killed them all?"

Her eerie grin was back. "Oh yesss, _all_ of them, you see, wizarding kind is stupid, shove something terrifying into their faces, and they will run, most will, though some like to fight. I like it when they fight." She cut off, cackling to herself. "I gutted them, like a fish being served up for dinner."

Samantha shut her eyes and took several deep breaths. "What's the matter sunshine? Can't stand the gory details? Can't stand the I cut open a man's stomach, pulled out his intestines and strangled another with them? Or that I gouged someone's eyes out, leaving them to bleed on the ground as they were trampled to death by the herds?" She couldn't hold back the vomit that now adorned the floor. The other clicked her tongue. "You aren't a very good reporter, you shouldn't get sick by _details_."

"Your times up Miss Gray." She nodded her head shakily. The guard undid the ropes, keeping his wand pointed at her at all times. "Come on Lestrange."

"W-wait!" Samantha said, finding her voice. "Who is your father?"

Olivia smiled again, "Jack, Jack Napier. Have a good day, Miss Gray." She walked out with the guard, singing,

"_Dance around the bodies,_

_bodies full of poison,_

_burning, burning,_

_Until you __**die**__."_

Her cackles filled the prison, Samantha was unable to hear her as she began throwing up again, painfully aware of the burning sensation flowing through her veins.

_**The End**_


End file.
